The Dream Team
by paulfrank987
Summary: AU. I had to write this for school and so made it about GA! This story explores Alex's darker side and past with appearances from George,  Owen, Richard and Burke.  It's not scary . Sorry I suck at summary's! Please R&R! Enjoy :


_*bzzzz, bzzzz* _my phone vibrates. Too far for me to reach, and yet too close for me to ignore. _"Where are you, Karev? We gotta survivor; we need you here ten minutes ago!" "Alex! Major breakthrough in the case! Get your ass down here now!" _The messages rolling in like flies, surrounding me, pulling me; tugging me, from my peace calling slumber, until my thoughts travel back to how I even got here. Lying in my own blood, shot by a victim, of all people. Someone'll get me soon, they'll notice, I'm one of the best. They have to notice, right?

Oh god. This never would've happened to my parents.

'The dream team', they were called. My parents were the best in the force, until the horrible, disgusting, hateful act that took my father's life and my mother's movement, thus severing the dream team forever. At just fifteen I was left with my father's ashes, a paralysed mother and a lot of bills to pay. But all hardships aside, I made it into The Seattle Police Force as an officer, determined to continue the legacy of my parents. After years in the force I was pulled onto the case of the decade, one that would surely make or break my career. "A series of murders; all perfect shots to the heart. We believe it's a serial killer, and one with considerable shot practice at that. O'Malley, Karev, Burke - Get on it!" Sergeant Webber had ordered. If only I had known then that the case would be the beginning of the end.

The killer had already claimed three victims, one per week – there was no time to waste. I immediately noticed that the killer used the same method as another, eleven years ago, as used on my father. However, as a popular method of murder, it seemed redundant to mention it at the time. We covered it all, victim maps, profiles, suspect searches and more. And yet we still had nothing after a week of meticulous searching – until O'Malley found the devil in the details. My father was that devil. The link, the missing piece – all of the victims were related to the man of the force, but he was dead and gone, which left me under attack.

The killer was after me. I was held in complete and utter shock. While I had to undergo interviews to prove my innocence, it was clear to everyone on the case that the killer was using my father to get to me. The victims included one of Dads co-workers, his close friend, his publicist and finally his assistant. All shot through the heart, as if the killer did not enjoy his work, as if he was obliged by some unseen force to free his mind through clean crime. After being found innocent I was forced by Sergeant Webber to go home; which I silently appreciated, while security guards were placed around my apartment. I was safe, or at least I thought so.

Fear hung over me like a cloak; a cloak that was far too tight. It followed me, teased me. Until I was done. I had to do something, so I made my own mind map of the case. I placed photos of the four victims with profiles underneath and one of my father in the middle, with me underneath him on a board. I then wrote all the connections possible between everyone on the map. What I found surprised me, and slightly disturbed me at the same time. All of the victims were in close contact with me during my childhood. Sickened, I left the map and went to bed; sleep acting as my only escape from the whirlwind. The next morning I woke to a site which horrified me. There on my kitchen floor was my mind map, torn apart, pictures ripped and all connections lost. It was as if someone didn't want me to find the answer, but I was the only one in the apartment and the security was tight. Sleepwalking, I concluded. That must have been one nightmare, but it'd happened before.

Sergeant Webber called during the evening, a fearful and simultaneously annoyed tone evident in his voice. _"Karev! How many times I gotta tell you, stay home! No walking your dog, no catching up with your buddies, nothin'! You hear me? This is a serious case; I'd expect you to appreciate that!"_ and with that, he hung up on me. I didn't even remember walking Dayne, but I was stressed, and in the heat of all this, as always, my mind seemed to enjoy playing tricks on me.

On the third day of my isolation O'Malley and Burke came to visit me, which I was eternally grateful for. In all the horror, they kept me grounded. They approached me cautiously, before dropping yet another bombshell, obliterating my peace once again. "Hey man, uh, they... they found another two victims" O'Malley forced. "Two? That breaks the one-per-week pattern, you sure it's the same guy?" I probed. "It's him" Cut off Burke abruptly. I snapped, the victims were both related to me once again; house bounding me further, and it was all too much. I hit the wall – literally, smashed things, hit them, and after all that I sat there and cried. O'Malley and Burke just sat there, looking at me with pity, a light tap on the back to show their support and they were gone.

I know now what I couldn't before. I now remember Dayne and I sneaking out of the apartment to my god-father, Owen's house. Perhaps to seek advice or comfort, after all he was the only real family I had left after Mom's paralysis took over. When I arrived I was met with an awful sight, I watched as Owen put up a fight to the killer. I distinctly remember him yelling "Stop! Stop! Let me help you, I can protect you! Heck, I've done it before, haven't I?" they rolled around. Throwing punches. Tumbling. Yelling. Kicking. Until Owen got the upper hand. I don't know how he did it, but he did. Owen grabbed the gun and pointed it at the killer. Tears prickling his eyes, he whispered "Let me help you, you can have peace, I won't tell. Not a word." before pulling the trigger and fleeing the scene.

Gasping, I'm reaching for my chest. Blood. There's blood everywhere. It stains me indefinitely. Everything hurts – especially my head. This never would have happened to my parents, no, but it's happened because of them. I can't breathe – knowing what I've done. My dark side, my shadow, it's always been there, and now it'll never leave. I'm evil; I'm evil because I'm scarred. And I'm scarred because he left me here, damaged and alone.

They say that everyone has a dark side, but once it takes you over, once it possesses you, you can never defeat it. But it will sure as hell defeat you. I am one, I am defeated, but I'm at peace now – we're at peace now.


End file.
